Do I Want to Know?
by The Owlish Olympian
Summary: AU: Cammie and Zach are mortal enemies, but what will happen when they study together and everything changes for the Zammie?
1. Chapter 1

"Okay, it's official. You're crazy."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that out a while ago."

"Well, I'm not you."

"You wish."

"God no."

"Why? I'm amazing."

"And, as mentioned before, crazy."

"You didn't deny I was amazing. And come on, you're crazy, too."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, you're right...you're insane."

"Thanks so much."

"Welcome."

"Don't be so...so idiotic."

"Pardon?"

"My point."

"Sorry, didn't know you could make one of those."

"What did you think I _could_ make?"

"Sarcastic comments."

"_No_."

"See?"

"No, actually. I have 400/20 vision at best."

"Yeah, yeah you do."

"I have 400/20 vision or I see?"

"See."

"Okay."

"What?"

"You're not deaf. You heard me."

"Obviously, if I'm not deaf."

"So what was the 'what' about?"

"You never agree with me."

"Yeah I do!"

"About what?"

"I saw."

"As in, you don't see anymore?"

"Shut up."

"So what did you do last night?"

"I typed on my computer and took caffeine pills."

"What did you type about?"

"I actually wrote this scene."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why do you think we're reading from scripts?"

"I don't know."

"Yeah you do."

"No, honestly, I don't. You're just the sarcastic chick from my theater class."

"Um, hello? _Theater_ class."

"Oh, right."

"Yeah."

"Why were you taking caffeine pills?"

"Man, I haven't slept in twenty seven hours."

"Got it."

"Do you?"

"Well, I thought I did...now I'm starting to doubt it."

"You're too easy."

"No, you're just good."

"I know I am."

"No—"

"Oh. My. God. Shut the hell up already!" I shout from the corner. I am extremely tired of listening to Bex and Grant argue, and I can't take one more second while I'm alone. Someone, even Jonas would make this better. And I hardly know him.

"Cammie, we're _practicing_," Bex enunciates.

"Yeah, I think you've got the self-centered, egotistical, argumentative couple act down," I snap, sliding my binder into my grey messenger bag and belting the straps down. I stand up, angry beyond belief at the moment, and stalk out of the theater area, not bothering to reply to the, "Someone's not too happy today, is she?" I hear as I exit.

Someone bumps into my shoulder and I look up at the contact. I regret my actions as soon as I complete them. A pair of startling green eyes stares—or rather glares—back at me.

"Goode," I acknowledge, pushing past him.

"Morgan," he replies just as coldly, making sure his foot scraped my bare leg as he walks away towards the torture I call Brant.

Bex is one of my best friends, but I can't stand to be around her when she and Grant get going. It's like a never ending cycle of insults and sly remarks that I have to pretend like I don't understand-slash-notice-slash-get. Liz, Jo, Mace, and Preston can't stand it either.

Of course, there's the other one in our group. His name is Zach. He's the one I can't stand all the time. Zachary Goode is one of nature's most annoying creatures. Scratch that. _The _most annoying creature. I don't know how the rest of them stand him...ever. But yet, he is one of their friends. An enemy-esque acquaintance is what I like to refer to him as. Of course, I'll only be 'Morgan' to him, and likewise 'Goode' to me.

The others think it's cute. I want to vomit at the sight of him.

I suppose I should mention that he's made my life hell for the past five years. From letting me wake up with Sharpie all over my face to kissing me (I really did throw up after that) in front of the entire sophomore class, he hasn't exactly been what I call a 'best bud'.

But it's a fine November day of junior year, and I plan to make it my best. Of course, I also plan for it to be my _only_ junior year, but that shouldn't be a problem, since I tend to get straight A's. Yet, somehow I feel that Zach is going to mess it up for me.

I just can't let that happen, now can I?

"Hey, Cammie," Macey McHenry says as I plop down beside her in the library at 4:30 p.m. Yes, the senator's daughter and all that. In case you're wondering, _yes_, Preston is also Preston Winters. All that mess.

School had let out a mere half an hour ago and I was already ticked off. Where would the world go from here?

"Hi," I reply, a steely tone illuminating my voice. "How's life?"

"Damn, what was it this time?" she asks, flipping through a book about World History or other. I fling my bag over the back of the wooden chair that sits in front of the circular table we occupy.

"Brant," I answer, and she gets it. I'm not the only one to be _slightly_ annoyed by Bex and Grant's antics. Liz and Jonas, they can survive, but then again, they're the only high schoolers to date that have hacked into the CIA. Enough said.

"What were they doing?" she questions, but then pauses and holds her hand up. "Wait, I don't want to know."

"Damn right you don't," I growl, slamming my binder onto the plastic surface of the table. This earns a well-deserved, "Shhhh!" from the librarian, but I ignore it and flip it open angrily. I scan my pages of notes, but nothing seems to be comprehendable and I sigh, leaning back into my chair.

"Okay," Macey finally says, closing her book. "What else?"

I turn to her after a few moments and debate whether to tell her the truth or not. "Zach," I finally admit.

"Ha!" she exclaims, another, "Shhhh!" directed our way. "Grant owes me thirty bucks."

"Excuse me?" I demand, looking at her a second time. "Sanity, where were you on the afternoon of November seventeenth?"

"Oh, shut up," Macey replies, blushing a bit. "Grant bet that you would crack after Thanksgiving, I told him you would admit your trouble with Zach beforehand."

Preston sits down at our little gathering, him sighing as well and adjusting his glasses a smidge. "Hello, ladies. What is the drama of the day?"

"Nothing," I lie quickly.

"Yeah," Macey snorts, "nothing other than Zachary Goode."

Preston decides to laugh along with her, and I pout at both of them. "I thought you guys were supposed to be my friends," I faux whine.

They chuckle and Preston quips, "Yeah, but we're also 'supposed to be friends' with Zach."

"I don't know how you stand him. He is such a jerk," I complain, flipping through my binder aimlessly for something to do. Mace and Preston exchange a glance that says 'Right'. I roll my eyes at them, knowing what they're talking about. Everyone thinks it's sexual tensions between Zach and I.

Um, excuse me, what universe do you live in?

Because I live in one where sanity exists, Zach is my mortal enemy (ha, emphasis on _mortal_), and we hate each other. He may be the world's most conceited, selfish, cocky jerk, but I'd rather have to live with that than be (oh my god, literal shudder) romantically in...in...(I'm choking on this last part) involved. I think I just died inside twelve times over.

"Morgan!"

Speak of the devil.

"What do you _want_, Goode?" I ask, exasperated. "I have much more important things to be attending to."

He smirks. "Like what?" Son of a bitch.

"Anything," I reply nonchalantly.

He whistles and put a hand over his heart mockingly. "Low blow there, Sunshine."

"What is up with the names? You've called me Froggy, Jellybean, Rainstorm, and now Sunshine. That's such an oxymoron," I state obviously. He's an oxymoron within himself, needless to say, but that doesn't stop him from shrugging and looking at me seriously.

"Anyways, what I came to talk to you about was the next test we have for Calculus," he informs me, taking a seat on the table my schoolwork is resting on. As much as I hate to admit it, Zachary Goode is pretty smart. Lucky for me, I'm _very_ smart.

"What about it?" I ask, shutting my binder and actually giving him some undivided attention. Macey and Preston give me a half smile, glancing between each other again. What is up with them today?

"Study at my house tonight?" Zach requests, looking actually pleasantly polite. If I forgot to mention it, I'm telling you now: Zachary Goode is so very fortunate to be my neighbor. He lives right next to me. Actually, he's not that lucky because it's very easy to sneak into his room through the window and spray things pink. But it's not like I speak from experience...

"Okay. I'll be at your window at eight," I say, frowning a bit at his sudden change of attitude. What is up with humanity today?

"You don't seem to happy about it, Gallagher Girl. Why aren't you practically crying because you have such a great study partner?" he asks mockingly. Never mind, humanity seems to be in order. I scoff and roll my eyes, pretending not to notice Macey and Preston almost falling off their chairs with laughter. The name Gallagher Girl is just another way to successfully annoy me. I was born in Gallagher Heights, but we moved to Blackthorne Valley a couple years ago. Since Zach was born here, I tend to call him Blackthorne Boy.

"Right. Forgive my lapse of judgement in character," I drawl, voice dripping with sarcasm. Irony is _everywhere_. "Why the sudden change in attitude? A few minutes ago you were heading off toward Brant with pretty much a dead body and now you're all happy-happy-joy-joy let's study."

I'm pretty sure Mace and Pres are dead from the Giggle Apocalypse, now.

"That, Morgan, is for you to figure out," Zach replies cryptically.

"It'd be plenty easy to figure out if you told me," I quip, standing up in front of him. It doesn't help my leverage much, though, since he's ten inches taller than me. Glaring, he stands up to tower over me when Liz and Jonas walk in.

"So, I was teaching Ellie how to break into a basic sixteen-bit encryption when the hard drive overloaded and..." Liz trails off at the sight of us throwing daggers at each other and Macey and Preston lying on the floor. Jonas starts laughing, which is odd for him because he doesn't tend to laugh much...obviously, if it's odd.

"Like I said," I restart, "window at eight."

"Agreed," Zach replies coolly, sliding past me and walking out like he was never here.

I scuttle over to Mace and Pres and demand, "What. The. Hell."

**A/N: So? What do you think? I've never done an AU before, so tell me if I should fix anything. REVIEW, PLEASE!**


	2. Chapter 2

"What was _that_?" I demand, glaring at Macey and Preston.

They both are shaking with laughter and rolling on the ground. Macey's going to be mad later when she sees her reflection, because her hair is all messed up and her outfit is very disorganized. The ice Queen, as I commonly refer to her as, will be in a rage.

Preston's face is rather red, and while that isn't a rare occurrence, it's _usually_ because Macey is shamelessly and relentlessly flirting with him. Instead, he's laughing so hard that he might be choking, to be honest with you. I'll get to that later, though.

"You guys..." Macey trails off, erupting in a fresh burst of giggles, leaving the end of her sentence hanging.

"...Are hysterical," Preston finishes, slightly recovered form their laughing fit. "It's only a matter of time until you start to realize that you like each other."

"Yeah, I grumble, deciding to turn the subject away form me, "just like you and Macey."

His ears glow a bright cherry and Macey only shrugs. "Yeah, you're probably right." Preston flushes a deeper red once she says that, but doesn't deny it. They stand up, brushing themselves off and straightening their clothing.

"Anyways, Cam, I will be at your house at five-thirty to help you get ready for your 'date'," Macey promises, to which I groan. "With Liz." She glances at Liz, or, at least, tries to, because Liz has discreetly slipped from the room along with Jonas.

"Ugh, no. You're going to pluck my eyebrows, put eyeliner and mascara on me, make me wear a push-up bra, and in general make me look like an idiot," I state, dreading what will happen in an hour. "And why five-thirty? Don't you remember? Goode said eight." **(The word said sounds so wrong, since I always write in present tense, blah.)**

"Actually...I wasn't going to make you wear a push-up bra. But now that you mention it..." Macey leaves me hanging, her words dissolving suggestively.

I groan again as she continues, "Bex will be present as well, and two and a half hours is _hardly_ enough time to get you ready."

"Mace, I need two and a half _minutes_ to get ready. Just brush my hair and get my backpack. It's not a date. We are studying—"

"Supposedly," Macey interrupts.

"—and nothing else. Except perhaps assault," I tack on, not sure if I can restrain punching Zach in the face for more than fifteen minutes. But then again, if I'm going to be in makeup and...ugh, _revealing_ clothing, I may just punch him so that I don't have to stand the embarrassment of my worst enemy watching me move around in that stuff.

"Sexual assault?" Preston pipes, grinning slyly at Macey, who oh-so subtly gives him a high five. Yeah, note the extreme sarcasm.

I shriek and slap him in the arm. "Preston! I don't know why I hang out with you guys if you're going to be partners in crime."

"You hang with us because we are amazing!" Macey explains, her point not exactly registering in the _valid_ category, pushing me towards the door and whipping out her phone. Texting Bex and Liz, I assume. I climb into my car and roll my eyes as Macey nearly walks into hers. A master plan begins to form in the deepest depths of my mind, and I plunge the key into the ignition before speeding off to my house.

* * *

I frantically hop over the porch steps and slam the door behind me, lugging my ten pound backpack behind me with an effort split between speed and safety.

"Hey Cammie, do you want to—" my mom begins to ask, but cuts off abruptly when she sees me, out of breath, and grabbing one of the banana nut muffins she was going to request me to sample.

"Sorry mom, whatever you do, do _not_ let the girls into my room, okay? Thanks," I answer, not waiting for a legitimate reply before dashing down to the end of the hall and pounding up the stairs as I hear Macey open the front door.

"Hey, Ms. Morgan. Is Cammie here?" she asks, faux innocent. I sigh and roll my eyes again at her facade of sincerity. Be all nice and sweet before torturing Cammie with chemicals and heat-applicant-products, I get it.

I fling the door to my room open and shut it with a bang, quickly jerking one of my drawers out of it's cubby and grasping the keys I keep under my lacy underwear Macey forces me to at least _keep_, so that my mom nor my brother will touch it.

I twist the key in the lock and let out a huff of air as I collasps onto my bed, exhausted from the exhiliration of completing a plan I should have thought of a _long_ time ago.

"Thanks, Ms. Morgan. I'm sure it will be delicious," Macey says, ever the suck-up to my mom. It is one reason my mother doesn't believe that Macey usually comes over her for the sole purpose of dressing me up like a total...total Barbie.

I hand lock the tiny little button on the door from my bathroom into my room. Grant would be—did I mention he is also my _brother_? It makes the whole 'Brant' concept more torturous, since Bex is one of my best friends—perfectly happy to let them through his room and bath to mine. For these two reasons:

A) He gets to see Bex.

B) He enjoys all ideas of making me uncomfortable.

So, since I have all the good people on my side, I just get to camp out here for two and a half hours—earbuds in, of course. I don't want to have to listen to the girls pounding on my door and screaming threats through the walls—before I get to comb through my hair and grab my backpack. All of that, of course, leading up to me throwing my backpack through Zach's window—open or not—and jumping in after it.

Our houses are right next to each other, our windows all buddy-buddy parallel to the other. It's convenient in two ways.

A) The aforementioned spraying things pink aspect.

B) I can easily get rid of Grant for hours on end, since my twin is Zach's best friend.

Grant is half the reason my little British companion tolerates Zach, and the other half is her personal desire to not get yelled at by her parents (for getting suspended for physical violence, of course). I wouldn't care if my boyfriend was the future prince of the _world_ and my parents could _slaughter_ me for getting academically punished, I wouldn't stand him for anything.

"Cams?" Macey calls from the outside. "Open the door."

I hurriedly stick my earbuds in and scroll to a random song. I drown her shouts, which soon get louder once accompanied by Bex, with the song Same Love. **(Oh my gosh, I have loved this song so much for the past couple days. Macklemore knows how to get a message across! If you've never heard it before, I highly recommend listening to it.)**

I chew a bit off of my muffin, knowing I am going to get it later from the girls, later. Mirrors, Good Girls Go Bad, Starships, and Cowboy Casanova are some that pound through my ears before seven fifty-eight rolls around and I rake a brush through my hair before grabbing the thick straps of my backpack and opening my window panel.

A light is on, and, unfortunately, the window is open. I fling my pack over the three feet that separate our households, scaring Zach out of his wits, and then stretch my leg over to his window frame. I grasp the top of the window and swing into his room.

It's carpeted, like I knew, since I've kind of seen his room before, but I didn't know his bed comforter was blue. I didn't know he liked Coldplay—though most people do—and I didn't know that he had a desk on the wall that faced my room. And I certainly didn't know that Zachary Goode was shirtless.

"Zach! What the hell? Put a shirt on!" I shout, putting my arms up in front of my face. He chuckles and shakes his head, though I'm not sure if that's in response or in the face that he thinks I'm being ridiculous. He gets up and hands me my backpack.

"What do you have _in_ this thing, by the way? It dropped on my floor like a deadweight," he jokes. I mean, tries to joke. I scoff and sling it over my shoulder like it's nothing, though my shoulder is screaming at me.

"Maybe because, by definition, it _is_ a deadweight, smart-aleck," I snap. He leans away, holding his hands up in surrender. In his jean cut-offs.

"Yeesh, what happened to you? Oh, wait...nothing," he answers, ignoring his rhetorical question. My eyes narrow involuntarily and I hit him in the side with my deadweight.

"Look, are we going to study or not? If we are, then you better put on a shirt before my pack attacks," I warn him, glaring at his chest—though I must admit, he has very nice abs.

Zach smirks, but puts on a tight-fitting t-shirt, much to my disgust. "Again, you mean," he clarifies, giving me a suffocating hug. I try to squirm out of his grip, but he has me hostage. "I thought we could put on a show for your audience."

I look out towards my window, and from the looks of it, the girl's knocked down my bathroom door and are now watching me. Reacting to instinct, I bite Zach on the forearm. Hard.

"Jeez, Cams!" Zach exclaims, releasing me and grabbing his arm, wiping it off onto his shorts. "Why'd you do that?"

My head snaps up at the sound of that. "No...no idea," I stutter, getting up from the crouch I landed in. Liz, Mace, and Bex are still watching through the glass, which I find quite strange, truth be told, but I don't take notice as Zach stares at me in the oddest way.

"What?" he asks defensively, rubbing his arm a bit.

I shake my head and furrow my eyebrows some, looking at the ground, where my big toe is making circles on the camel colored carpet. "Nothing, it's just...the first time you've ever called me by my name."

Zach's eyebrows raise, but I only shake my head again and take a deep breath. "Let's get to work."

**A/N: So? What'cha think? For those of you reading my Found and Beautiful story, I need inspiration, so that's why I haven't updated. But please review with any ideas you have—either story!  
NOM NOM NOM**

**Random sentence time: I ate chicken salad on top of a giant thumbrint for LGBT Pride.**

**Okay, it's not that random since I actually ate chicken salad on top of a rainbow thumbprint on one of the city sidewalks that was drawn for LGBT Pride time! Woo!**

**Okay, Review, please.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, so I didn't plan for so many people to like this story! So, now that I know people do, I am setting an update schedule. I have decided that I will update every three days. Capiche? Great, because I don't feel like going into detail.  
Anyways: READ AND REVIEW!**

"Okay, so...solve this: one over 'x' squared minus four equals 'd' times 'x'," Zach rattles off. I take a deep breath—this is, like, my fifth deep breath since he called me by my name...two minutes ago. My pencil scribbles over the paper and erases things repeatedly through the time of ten minutes. This is exhausting.

"Um...that equals one-fourth 'l-n' times parenthesis 'x' minus two over 'x' plus two end parenthesis plus 'C'," I answer, raising my eyebrows in question. Zach's eyes widen and he nods that I'm right. I roll my eyes and continue, "You know, Goode, I _am_ pretty smart. You don't have to be surprised I'm right."

Zach snorts in response and says, "Yeah, sure. Come back to me later when you ace our first test."

"I will," I reply heatedly, glowering at him. "And you can come back to me later when _you _need to study with _me_ because I do."

"Two equals one over two 'l-n' times parenthesis 'x' plus three end parenthesis plus three over two 'l-n' times parenthesis 'x' minus three end parenthesis plus 'd' times 'x'," Zach states confidently, looking smug at his work.

"Nope," I inform him flippantly. "'D' times 'x' equals C, you had to fill out the end."

Bex, Macey, and Liz all laugh, to which I roll my eyes. I get up to close the window and pull the curtain down, but Zach wraps his arms around me from behind. Letting out a cry of protest, I attempt to wriggle of his grasp, but his hold is too strong. I try to start running, and he won't let go, but suddenly he does after a matter of minutes and I almost fall.

Almost.

Zach catches me halfway on my magical fun journey to the carpet, pulling me upright. That's all fine, since I didn't particularly want to hit my face, but then he dips me—yes, actual _dippage_. While he doesn't do anything harmful or shocking, he just looks at me.

"Zach!" I shout with annoyance as he stares intently at me. I pull and scrape on his arms with my fingernails, but as he keeps eye contact, I slowly stop trying to escape.

His eyes are like fibers of spring, flecks of gold shimmering around his pupil like spokes on a bicycle wheel. They both practically glow in the darkness that seems to surround us, leading me to lean closer to inspect them further. They are outlined by a thin line of black, barely noticeable, but there. It—

"Oi, lover boy!" Bex screams, her British accent ringing clear through the night. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole neighborhood heard her. "You done kissing our friend, yeah?"

I shriek in surprise and immediately drop from his arms; the only thing that had been holding me up was my grip on his arms right below his shoulders. I fall onto my elbows, which _really_ strains my shoulders, but I just ignore the hand Zach offers me.

"Bex!" I exclaim from my uncomfortable position on the floor. "He wasn't kissing me, you 'bloody idiot'."

She snorts, mumbling something about 'Like we believe you' and 'you can't do my accent'.

I roll my eyes before turning back to Zach and glaring at him. He looks wary, but somewhat smug and happy about something. I hope it's not about me, because A) that's not even possible. Hello, mortal enemies, here, and B) I would crawl into a hole and die if he actually enjoyed the possibility of Bex's idea.

Not that there was a remote possibility.

"That was uncalled for," I hiss at Zach. Before he can do anything I slap him right across the face. He looks stunned, but he raises his hand to his cheek in surprise, not hurt. Zach looks it over before smirking.

"Yeah, and so was that," he quips. I groan at his reply and face palm myself. Sighing and glancing around the room, I decide that maybe I could have some fun with this. Maybe...maybe this is how I can get him back for everything he's done to me.

"I'm tired, Zach. See you tomorrow," I tell him, picking up my backpack and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the date."

I climb through my window the same way as before, barely able to contain both my embarrassment and laughter as I tumble into my bedroom. My breathing comes in quick, short gasps as I can't stop giggling at his expression. He looked so shocked I swear I might have given him memory loss.

"Mace," I gasp, "close the window. Put the curtain down."

She does as told and then I am literally having laughter spasms. Bex, Macey, and Liz look on with expressions that tell me they are questioning my sanity, currently. Eventually my laughter dies down, the tears stop flowing, and I am able to drag myself off the hardwood floors and onto my plush purple bed.

"Sorry," I gasp, "he was just...oh my gosh, his face was...this is ridiculous."

All three nod in agreement. Macey begins, "Yep it's ridiculous. What the heck happened?"

"Well, I went to close the curtains, but I tripped and Zach caught me. He dipped me and then it looked like he was kissing me, which he totally wasn't, by the way. I slapped him after I fell and then decided I could tease him. So I kissed him on the cheek and said, 'Thanks for the date'," I finish, purposely leaving out the part where I was entranced by Zach's eyes. I blush at the thought, and they notice.

"Okay, what else?" Bex asks, putting a hand on her hips.

I sigh, but retort, "That depends, how many times did you hit Grant over the head today?"

Liz smiles and Macey bites back a laugh as Bex (probably truthfully) answers, "Seventy-four."

"You actually counted?" I question in disbelief.

Bex nods. "Yup. Now tell us what else."

"Well," I start uncertainly, "there was a moment, when he dipped me, that I saw his eyes. Like, _really_ saw them. Everything seemed to turn dark around me and it was like I couldn't hear or smell or breathe anymore."

Macey smirks, Bex copies, and Liz flashes me a mischievous smile. Oh no.

"What?" I ask cautiously, edging back towards my beach wood chest of drawers next to my bed.

They all exchange a look and I become more afraid. _What are they going to do? _I ask myself. _Flip me over or something weird like that?_ I am basically backed into a corner, and it makes me feel trapped right when—thank god—my mom interrupts.

"Cammie? You want some dinner?" she asks, looking at our situation curiously, but deciding not to press on it. I nod vigorously, and the girls have no choice but to let me through. Bex, Macey, and Liz, all collect themselves and leave as I walk downstairs to catered spaghetti and meatballs.

"Yay! Lucio's!" I exclaim, clapping my hands. "Nice 'cooking', Mom," I tease.

She rolls her eyes and waves my comment away with a smooth, polished hand. I take my fork, put a napkin over my shirt, and twirl the noodles around the tines of the fork. After taking a bite, I swallow contentedly and wipe my mouth, which undoubtedly has spaghetti sauce on it.

"So, kiddo," Mom starts, "I heard you had a date tonight."

I groan and silently kick Macey and Bex. "Mom, it wasn't a date. It was a _study session_."

"Right. Who with?" she questions, taking another bite of saucy spaghetti. **(Haha, 'Don't get saucy with me, Bearnaise!' Random)**

I cough a bit after taking a sip of lemonade, which has apparently transported magically from it's container to a cup in my hand. "Erm, Zach Goode."

It comes out like a question. Luckily, it wasn't very noticeable. Unluckily, my mother notices many things that she shouldn't. She nearly chokes on her salad that she's devouring and almost has to spit it out, I can tell. She collects herself, tucking a piece of dark brown hair behind her ear as if to emphasize her disbelief. "Zach Goode? As in, quote, 'mortal enemy' end quote next door?"

"No, Mom. The Zach Goode I met at the strip club," I drawl, looking at her with half-dropped eyelids. She rolls her eyes again and swallows some more noodles (uneventfully, however).

"Cammie, don't be so sarcastic. Some people don't like that," my mother chastises.

I sigh dramatically. "But mom! Sarcasm is just _another_ service I offer!"

**A/N: And that is where I will leave you for now. Catch that CMH quote? Check back in three days for a new chapter, but in the meantime please give me your ideas! I am kind of floating like a lost leaf right now. So, Please REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So I have inspiration coming in loads! Just another one of my highs, then I'll probably resume to my lull. Also, a few things.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Gallagher Girls. Also, I don't own the aforementioned songs:**

**Same Love by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis ft. Mary Lambert**

**Mirrors by Justin Timberlake**

**Good Girls Go Bad by Cobra Starships ft. Leighton Meester**

**Starships by Nicki Minaj**

**and Cowboy Casanova by Carrie Underwood**

**Nor the 'Don't get saucy with me, Bearnaise' line I put in the last chapter.**

**So, here is Chapter 4!**

"Cammie!" Zach calls from behind me. I turn around unthinkingly; a reflex reaction. Cursing myself as he approaches, I put on a fierce glare and remember what happened last night. I was stupid to think about playing with him. We're enemies and will always be.

"What do you want, Goode?" I greet coldly. He smirks and puts his arm around my shoulders, about to say something, but I shove him arm off so forcefully that it stretches his arm back, painfully, apparently. He's fine, really, but he mocks hurt as he trails behind me.

"Come on, Cammie. We're study buddies!" he exclaims happily as I keep on marching for the lunchroom, annoyed. I fling the swinging doors open with an angry manner and swerve towards the salad bar. Unfortunately, Zach also wants salad. Or he's so desperate to talk to me that he'll get salad anyways.

I take some lettuce and cheese, grab some dressing and croutons, and some chips before grabbing a milk and sitting down at the gang's table.

"Hey, Cammie," Liz pipes from her seat across from me. As she takes a bite, Zach sits down _right next _to me. That's never happened before, and Macey and Bex notice it.

"What are you doing?" Bex asks cautiously, frowning a bit in confusion. I glance around and see none of the other guys here. I remember that they had some kind of field trip for sixth period history, and Zach isn't in that.

Zach grins like the idiot he is and I sigh in disgust. Mace and Bex exchange a conspiratorial glance and I shake my head rapidly at them. But I can't stop Zach from answering, "Cammie and I are study buddies!" **(I was laughing so hard at this point. Like, what on earth?)**

"Yeah...sure," I mumbled sarcastically, kicking him in the leg as he scoots even _closer_ to me, so that it looks like we're bonded by superglue. He remains unaffected, though, so I move over closer to Bex. Zach finishes taking a bite of his cucumber-and-tomato-topped salad before copying me again.

"Do you want me to slap you again?" I ask rhetorically, stabbing my iceberg lettuce viciously with the poor plastic fork that was unfortunate enough to be picked by me. Zach undoes the cap to his milk and takes a sip before looking over toward me.

I raise my eyebrows in expectation for an answer he will no doubt supply, despite the rhetorical-ness of said question. He only keeps staring though and I become even more paranoid he'll try something crazy today.

"Guys, what the bloody hell are you doing?" Bex demands, her personal pizza in hand. Macey looks deeply concerned and Liz is distracted by college credit homework the board of trustees was crazy enough to give her. I snap back to reality and look at the time.

We've been staring at each other for the past five minutes.

Well, technically Zach's the only one who was staring, I was more of glaring and challenging him to...never mind.

"She is daring me to answer her rhetorical question. And no, I do not wish to be slapped. This face is too 'Goode' to be five-starred, at the moment, my dear Cameron," Zach informs me cockily. I roll my eyes and set my fork down.

"Oh, so we're on a first name basis, now, are we, Zachary?" I ask, sitting up a bit taller as I say this.

"Yes, Cameron, we are."

"Third time."

"What?"

"That's the the third time you've called me by name."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Did you know that last night was the first time you called _me_ by my name, as well?"

Silence rings over the table as the three observers look back at me like a ping-pong match. My glare softens as I think back.

"_Zach!" I shout in annoyance as he stares intently at me_.

Oh, yeah. I look up at him and say, "Well, then I guess we're even then, aren't we, Blackthorne Boy?"

I stand up from the table and throw the remainders of my lunch in the trash, not too hungry anymore. The four stare at me for a moment before, simultaneously, they all get up and start walking after me. That makes me feel strange, like I have a posse or something crazy.

_Shut up, Cammie. Not the time_, I scold myself.

I grab my books from my locker and bang the door to wheel around to a concerned Zach and mystified friends. They look so lost that I have an eye conversation basically telling them to come over later since I have _no_ time to explain right now.

"Zach, stop," I tell him tiredly. "Stop following me."

He frowns, but keeps ignores my order. "I'm not following you, I'm wondering why _you're_ running away. Did I do something?"

"No, Zach, not yet," I say under my breath. Of course, he heard me though.

"Not yet? What is that supposed to mean?" Zach demands, putting an arm on the bookshelf next to me. I become aware of my surroundings, suddenly. Apparently, I chased myself into the library.

I sigh and pull out a book randomly, shoving it back into place without even reading the title. For a few more minutes, I can't think of a civil answer, so I keep doing this until I finally decide to not beat around the bush...anymore. "It means that I think you're going to try and do something perverted and creepy in front of everyone."

"Like what?" he counters, leaning forward even more on his arm, cornering me on the flat edge of the bookshelf.

"Like sophomore year. Assembly. _You kissed me_. Without my permission, thank you very much," I retort smartly, trying to walk forward, but he corrals me back against the shelf. He sighs and looks up for a bit while I wait it silence, biting off the stream of cuss words I want to explode with (but that probably wouldn't fly too well with the librarian either).

"Gallagher—"

"I have a name."

"I know, and one of them is 'Gallagher Girl'."

"Use the one printed on my birth certificate."

"Cameron—"

"You _know_ I don't like to be called that."

"Yep, I'm sure Macey still has a bruise."

"Call me Cammie, Zach," I tell him, pushing past his arms, "call me Cammie."

He wraps his arms around my waist suddenly and I'm so surprised that I don't jerk back or shout—but mainly because I'm in a library. Zach stares at me again, in that way that makes me forget everything and makes me feel like I'm falling—literally.

"Stop that!" I snap, pushing back against his chest.

Zach looks bewildered as I glower at him incessantly. "Stop doing what?" **(A/N: Realized I stole this from my other story...if that's possible to steal lines from yourself?)**

"Stop...stop staring at me like that. It's freaking weird. And it freaks me out!" I defend haltingly, trying to sidestep Zach so I can leave for the day. I'm tired of school already and I can ask Liz to grab my work—she'll never skip a chance to chat with the teacher.

Zach copies my movements, though, and won't let me leave. "Gallagher Girl, I don't know what you're talking about. But honestly, I don't know what has gotten into you! Just leave me alone if you can't figure out what it is you want."

He stalks off, dark green shirt disappearing into the shadows of the library.

_Want? What the hell does he mean by that? Doesn't he understand how _weird_ he acted yesterday?_

Looking at his retreating figure, I realize, _probably not._

**A/N: Okay, I **_**think**_** I know what I'm doing now. It's relatively short, but I'm not sure if it will perk up or drabble down even more. We'll see.**

**REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Cammie," Bex reprimands sternly over the phone, "It was not appropriate to mess with Zach like that. You led him on to think you could possibly like him, and then tried to give him the cold shoulder with a side of angry."

I sigh, the rebounding static crackling in my ear. "Yeah, I know. It wasn't cool—"

"Oh no," Macey interrupts on the three-way, "It was, how Bex says, 'bloody awesome'. I've never seen someone play a guy that quickly. What we're saying is that now you've caused a big conflict that could have been avoided. Normally, we wouldn't care—"

"Thanks a lot," I grumble.

She continues as if I hadn't spoken at all, "But this causes conflict within everyone. Zach is venting to Grant who brings it up to Bex who is caught in the crossfire, since you're her friend, and you are venting to us who tell our boyfriends who want to side with Zach since they're like brothers, but don't want to disappoint us. Understand?"

"Not quite," I reply, "but I think I'm starting to get the gist. I'll try to clear it up with Zach tomorrow during Chemistry; we're partners."

"Soul partners," Bex counters, hanging up before I can object.

Macey laughs before saying, "Yeah, I've got to go, too. School night, you know?"

"Yeah," I sigh, "I know. See you tomorrow."

* * *

"Okay, class. The sheet of instructions is in front of you. Just follow it and you'll be fine. Whoever finishes first is excused from tonight's homework!" Ms. Droughstein finishes, excited. Whispering immediately dominates my fifth period class as they all race to start the experiment.

I sigh as Zach grits his teeth and starts reading down the list. "First, put on safety goggles. Second—"

"Zach," I interrupt, not in the mood to do an experiment. Homework is always easy in Chemistry anyways. That is, if you're talking about the class. "About yesterday, I just—"

"Cammie, don't bother me with this. It's obvious you don't want anything to happen between us," he points out, looking at me with his eyebrows raised. "Conversation or otherwise."

I exhale loudly, earning a few stares from the people around us, but they all look away as they realize it's Goode and Morgan, arguing as usual. I slip on my safety goggles and glance at Zach through the clouded lenses. "I'm sorry about the past two days. Can we just forget it ever happened?"

"No, Cammie," he retorts angrily, adding the 400 milligrams of red powder we're supposed to put in the first beaker. "I can't. I don't think you understand."

"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times," I start, "It'd be plenty easy to figure out if you told me."

"Mr. Goode and Ms. Morgan. Please hurry along with your assignment," Droughstein orders, sending a reprimanding glare our way. Everyone chuckles a bit since this is a regular comment we receive in _every_ group project—we always seem to score being partners—much less this class. We both acknowledge her quietly before turning back to our experiment.

I pour a few millimeters of water into the red powder, trying to get the texture exactly right. Zach stirs it in silence before I start again, "Why not? Help me understand if it's such a big problem."

"Cammie, we're in the middle of a _project_," he emphasizes sarcastically, rolling his eyes—he's been spending too much time around me—before a smirk settles comfortably across his mouth. I roll my eyes in mirror and gather the vinegar in a seperate cylinder to add baking soda to later. We're going to compare the two reactions.

"How about after the project, then?" I ask innocently, watching Zach pour blue powder into the beaker. He pulls it back a bit before adding the last bit necessary and stares at me sadly, a bit of disappointment and fed-up-ness in both of his eyes. But it's a thin veil hiding mockery and anger.

Zach stands up and leans over toward me. "Stop, Cammie, I don't want to have this conversation."

"Well, I do," I retort, gettting up like him with my hands on my hip. We look ridiculous, goggles on and poised to strike.

"I don't!" Zach insists, pouring way too much red powder in and knocking the beaker with the powder into the cylinder with the warm vinegar. The reason it's warm...a flame is lit beneath it.

A big column of flame shoots up, throwing us both back from the extreme heat. The counter we were working begins to melt some and a small hole burns through the cardboard slate ceiling. It's exposes the wiring and frays a few electrical wires, which spark and flicker with flame.

The Chemistry teacher stares in shock before she realizes that the flame, our experiment burned out, has started a fire on the roof too big to put out at this point. I kick in the fire alarm and soon a shrieking siren resonates through the air around the school.

"Teachers and students, please report to your fire drill locations. This is _not_ a drill, I repeat, _not_ a drill. A real fire is existent and evacuation is mandatory," the secretary tells us over the intercom. We all charge out the door, though still managing to exit in a straight and formal line as of protocol.

Classes all over the school are exiting the front, side, and back door from the main building while we're coming out of the science wing. We're all told to go home, and the buses are lining up at the entrance when the principal, over a bullhorn, yells, "Cameron Morgan and Zachary Goode _please_ come here."

I snort at the use of Zach's full name and he does likewise, which results in us glaring at each other before we make our way to Principal Helens. She suddenly stands up straighter and sighs as we come into view, slightly pushing each other out of the way as we calmly race towards her. This isn't the first time she's dealt with us.

"I understand a little, er, _accident_ happened in the chem labs because of you," she tells us sternly, folding her arms over her chest with an authoritative glare. I elbow Zach as if to say, 'I'll take care of this'.

I step forward timidly and inform her, "It was an accident. I was getting up to ask Ms. Droughstein a question about the instructions because they confused me a little. Zach offered to do it for me, but I insisted, pushing past him and knocking the powder over into the flame casket."

She looks at us disbelievingly, but, being the amazing actress I am—and the mediocre actor Zach is—we manage to convince her of our story, to my relief. She tells us that she's calling our parents and we are suspended for three days, but we won't be charged with the damage.

I am suddenly aware of the sirens and flashing lights of the firetrucks that surround the science wing, water leaking down the sidewalk's curb. I turn to Zach in annoyance.

"You got me suspended; be happy," I snap. "I'm going to be in _so_ much trouble once I get home an—"

"Go on a date with me," Zach interrupts, staring me straight in the eye, "Cammie."

I shake my head and splutter, "Excuse me?"

"Go; to travel to or exit for; on a date; to be on a romantic excursion; with me; to be alone around or accompanied by Zachary Goode; Cammie; you," he oh-so helpfully clarifies, talking slowly. I sigh in defeat and roll my eyes.

"I know what you said. What the hell does that mean? Go where? Hold the phone," I cut myself off. "Date? You are my...nemesis. When did you decide you wanted to go on a date?"

Zach turns away and mutters something that sounds an awful lot like 'A long while before you knew me' before flippantly asking, "Does that mean yes?"

My eyes widen and I reply, "I don't know. Does this mean you like me?"

"I suppose so," he answers, smirking like an idiot and crossing his arms as I try to stare him down (I can't, he's too tall).

I give him a sly smile. "In that case, it does."

And I walk away to my car without looking back, knowing Zach is watching anyways.

**A/N: Yes? No? Next chapter=first date! That took a sudden turn, didn't it? Muahahahahahaha. I'm writing a far too romantic story to be listening to 'Jar of Hearts'. Anyways, REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Okay, so here is the sixth chapter! I really enjoyed writing this one, even though it may be suckish. Oh well, Read!**

**Oh, and a reply to an anonymous reviewer: **

**Anon: I know that Cammie isn't characteristically aggressive, but the thing is that is her personality here because I have it AU. That's what I like to do. Even when it's not AU, sometimes, like my story Found and Beautiful. She's extremely aggressive and fierce at the beginning. Just how I do.**

_When you walk my way_

_I feel a rush come over me_

_A sharp panic, panic_

_It's the things you say_

_That makes a rush come over me_

_It happens all the time_

—_Lessons in Love (All Day, All Night), Neon Trees and Kaskade_

"Date?!" Macey and Bex screech simultaneously. Liz and I wince and cover our ears as I, "Shhh!" them. Grant opens the door, much to my dismay, and I try to wave him out of the room, but it doesn't work.

"Date?" Grant asks, voice muffled because he's brushing his teeth. "Who's going on a date?"

Macey folds her arms over her chest. "Cammie and Zach."

Grant chokes on his toothbrush and spits out half his toothpaste mixture all over Liz. She gasps and Grant's eyes widen while he coughs and quickly shuffles into my bathroom, spitting out the rest, wiping his mouth, and handing Liz a wet washcloth. "Sorry, Liz. How is that _possible_?"

"Is it really that unbelievable?" I ask, throwing my hands up. The girls and Grant burst out into ridiculing laughter and I huff while crossing my arms across my chest, not at all being helped when Zach decides to join our oh-so lovely conversation by opening his window.

"Yep. We're plain unbelievable, Gallagher Girl," Zach confirms, rolling my nickname over his tongue with a lazy drawl. I roll my eyes and get up to shut my window before he jumps across into my household. I hit him on the arm while the others look on in amusement.

"You're trespassing onto private property," I hiss pettily, pushing him back by lightly shoving his chest with my fingertips. It's more of a suggestive gesture than an actual movement to harm him. "And even if my mother agrees to having a contaminated species in this house, I will _not_ tolerate one in my room."

Zach pouts and starts to trudge out of the room with his head bowed before he pivots back and kisses my cheek quickly. Before I can react, he shoots out of the room and, I assume, takes refuge in Grant's room. I hiss furiously, even though it was only a cheek kiss, and burst through Grant's bathroom and right into...Zach.

I fall down on my butt and end up staring at Zach from my very uncomfortable position on the ground and glaring. He can't help it. He's about to turn purple from trying not to laugh when one little chuckle escapes. Then it turns into a small chain of chortles. Finally, he bursts and he is doubling over and roaring with laughter. I frown at him disapprovingly and kick him in the shin. Even that can't get him to stop.

"I'm never going to be bored with you, am I, Gallagher Girl?" Zach asks through teary eyes and wheezy breaths. I retreat slowly to the bathroom before smirking and crossing my arms (again).

"Who says you're ever going to be 'with' me?" I retort, slipping through my bathroom door. On a last minute thought, I duck back in for a moment and answer, "But no. No you're not."

* * *

"Macey, I have to leave in _five minutes_ and I haven't even gotten dressed. Please just let me up to change and _then_ you can finish whatever the hell is wrong with my eyebrows," I promise, pushing past her and her array of hot wax wands to access my top and jeans. Yeah, I know, you're thinking: _Shouldn't she wear a dress on a first date?_ Uh-huh, you see, I don't wear dresses. Only on special occasions. And also, it's a—god, are you going to make me say it?—'first date' with _Zach_. Which means under no circumstances am I trying to impress him. Why did I agree to this?

I slip on my (I'll admit, really nice) navy blue top with embroidery on the chest and butterfly sleeves. Macey approved, of course. Then I put on my dark wash blue jeans and stalk back into the bathroom.

"Cammie, you only have one minute, so just put on these shoes," Macey orders while she finger combs through my iron-made curls one more time. I slip them on—dark blue converse—and turn around for the yes/no. She nods and bites her lip in indecision. I raise an eyebrow in question, but soon smile as she pulls out a digital camera. Not because she asked me to, but because I think it's cute they want to mark my first date. Ever.

Yeah, yeah, all about that later. I run downstairs, grabbing my purse on the way, and burst through the front door after yelling, "Thank you!" up to Macey. Thrusting the keys, into the ignition, my (brake) foot tapping impatiently, I check the time. Six forty-five. I have fifteen minutes to complete a ten minute drive. Maybe less, since it's Sunday. Letting out a breath of relief, I reverse and step on the gas.

Zach _would_ be driving me, but I insisted on driving myself. So it's not even funny when I'm sitting at a stop light and Zach pulls up beside me, rolling down the window.

"Gallagher Girl!" he calls. "Fancy seeing you here."

I roll my eyes while he smirks and shifts his gears before we shoot off towards the place Zach only gave me the address to. Eight mintes later, I am pulling up in **(I almost made it Zach's house, but then I was like, 'Oh crap! He lives right next to her!' So I created the next best thing. Anyways, carry on.)** front of a short glass building with lots of window frames and frost sheets over it. I step out of the car cautiously, not knowing what Zach is really doing.

"Where are we, Zach?" I whisper through the near darkness. Zach pulls up beside me soundlessly, scaring me out of my wits when he touches my arm to assure me.

"Don't worry, Cam, we're fine. This is a property my parents own. So I set up dinner," he informs me, shrugging like it's nothing, when, in fact, _I_ could possibly burn water. I try to say something, but can't until we're inside the sliding door.

"This...is very nice," I say, surprised. There are white paper napkins on the side of the seats, paper plates as the main object, and a salad with some tomatoes and feta crumbled on top. I love how he didn't use real dishes, honestly.

A beep goes off from a room separate from the sitting area I'm in right now. Zach retreats into the other room as I look around curiously. The table is slim and barely has space for what is already on it, but when Zach comes in with ham and cheese sandwiches and manages to fit them on, I can't help but cracking a smile.

He notices and says, "I knew you'd like this a bit better than any formal dinner."

I grin and then my eyes widen in shock as his words catch up to me. "Woah. How on earth did you...?"

Zach smirks and wriggles his eyebrows mysteriously. "I have my sources."

"Otherwise known as Grant," I clarify. He nods, but takes a seat across from the chair I'm closest to. I grab a sandwich and put it on my plate next to a generous amount of salad. Apparently, dressed with raspberry vinaigrette, it tastes really good.

"So what do you want to talk about?" Zach questions bluntly after taking a bite of his sandwich. I snort and look around a bit, finishing chewing before I look at him disbelievingly.

"We could talk about what we're going to do for the next three days," I tell him, remembering that I have to tell my mom I won't be going to school tomorrow. I shudder at the thought. She already knows of course, from the phone call, but if I don't tell her I'll get in big trouble for 'lying'.

He coughs a laugh and suggests, "You could hang out with me."

"Why would I hang out with you?" I snap reflexively, half wanting to apologize and half not with my permanent grudge. Zach doesn't even look fazed, but instead seems more intent on getting me to agree as I assault my salad. **(Sexual assault? Oh, I'm such a pervert.)**

He folds his hands and puts them under his chin as he looks at me with dark green eyes. "Because I'm the only one available between the hours of eight forty-five and four that day and because you being on a date with me proves that you don't completely and utterly despise me with all of your guts."

"Oh really?" I ask airily, not really paying attention to my sandwich as much as I let on. Zach leans farther more so that he's almost across the half of the table.

"Yes. Yes it does," he replies, immediately scooting back as I finish the rest of my sandwich, focusing now on the meager remains of my salad. I scoop it up quickly with a fork and glance back at him who is doing the same, sans looking at me.

Zach looks at me, smirking, and takes my plate to the trash before retreating into the—what I assume is—the kitchen. I get up anyways and follow him into it, looking around at the contrast of high-end appliances and the chipped laminate counters. I grin at the way it looks like home more than ridiculousness. He catches me grinning and smiles back.

"Yeah, it looks kind of weird, right?" Zach asks, opening the freezer. I shake my head and bite my lip as I feel over the uneven edges of the counter. He raises an eyebrow and I open my mouth to say something but am interrupted by my cell phone.

Zach chuckles and says, "Answer it. I'll be ready in a second." I look at the screen and see it's Bex. She won't be happy if I ignore her, but I don't really feel comfortable taking it now. "Seriously, I'm not bothered at all," he reassures me. I finally duck out of the kitchen and press the green key.

"Yes, Bex?" I greet her, kind of annoyed she would call me now. She knows I'm here! "What?"

"Cammie?"

"Yeah."

"How's your date going?"

"Swell up until the point where you called me right in the middle of a conversation," I snap back.

"Oh. Sorry."

"Yeah. Anything else?"

"Has he kissed you yet?"

"Goodbye, Bex."

"Cam—"

I hit the red key firmly before turning around to Zach holding two bowls with spoons in them, smiling sheepishly. The corners of my mouth tilt up a bit, but also furrow my brow in confusion. "What's that?"

"Ice cream," he tells me, handing me a little bowl. I look inside and see my favorite flavor: Mint chocolate chip. My face must have lit up or something, because Zach gives me a small laugh. "Like?"

"Yeah," I answer, taking the spoon and eating a bit. I close my eyes and savor it. My voice thick, now, I tell him, "This is so good."

"I know," he replies, smirking. I roll my eyes as I take another bite and he copies. We down on the couch facing the fireplace comfortably as we continue to eat dessert. He seems to enjoy it too, but the silence—besides the scrape of spoons against bowls—is broken when Zach suddenly blurts, "Your hair is really pretty."

I frown in confusion a bit as I finish a bite before pursing my lips in an attempt to not smile. "Um, thanks...where did that come from?"

He turns red—oh my gosh, he must be _really_ embarrassed—while he answers, "I don't know, but it's true."

My cheeks heat up as we stare at each other, our ice cream forgotten in our hands. He won't stop looking at me with his forest green eyes, and it makes me squirm a bit. "Stop doing that!" I repeat.

"Stop doing what?" he asks again, just like in the library. I sigh and set my ice cream down on the table. He does the same and looks at me just as intently when he sits back, leaning against the couch cushions.

"Stop...looking at me like that," I finish, crossing my arms and looking away as I turn a even redder (not that I was that red before). He gives me a suppressed smirk and puts his hand on one side of my cheek so he forces me to face him. He leans toward me and my eyes widen in surprise.

"Like what?" he asks calmly, getting closer at a steady pace.

I edge away a bit, trying to figure out how to get out of this. "Um, uh..." I stutter as he keeps looking at me.

"What was that?" he teases, a small smirk spreading across his face. I can't even form words as he leans too close for my liking and, suddenly, presses his lips to mine.

A strange, fiery feeling spreads through my body as I close my eyes automatically. I respond after a few seconds, leaning further into him and wrapping my arms around his neck as he grabs me by my hips. I, after a couple of minutes, pull away and stare at him, suddenly feeling alien.

This is strange and weird...but oddly nice? I can't control the boiling feelings coursing through me. They're fighting against each other. Attraction and disgust. What have I done now?

"What...was that?" I whisper haltingly.

**A/N: Heehee. Hope you're happy. I'm going to be off schedule since I'm going on vacation where they have no internet :( But I'll be sure to write the next two chapters during that time span so I can update twice once I get back :) Make up for it? No? Yeah, kind of does. PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Special shout out—even though they didn't review **_**this**_** story in particular, I have to get it out somehow— to ****outlookforever,**** they made me cry (with joy). They told me they thought they were reading Ally Carter. I burst into tears and started shrieking when I read that. Thank you!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So...this took me forever. I'm so very sorry, but it was hard to find out how to get where I want. Please enjoy this chapter.**

**I've forgotten the disclaimer!**

**Officially Disclaimed.**

"What does it look like?" Zach responds rhetorically. "I was kissing you."

I shake my head, stunned, and pull back more, retracting my arms from around his neck and sitting up straight. He looks at me dead serious and I blink stupidly a few times before clarifying, "Yeah, I mean 'Why did you do that?'"

He takes a deep breath and gazes at me with a piercing kind of intensity which makes me squirm with discomfort and irritation. "I did that because I finally had the guts to kiss a certain Ms. Morgan, who I've had a crush on since kindergarten."

My breath hitches at that. WHAT? I thought we were mortal enemies. I thought he hated me. I thought we were sworn to hate the other for life! I think...I think I need to lay down.

I shake my head and take a deep breath before saying, "Zach, I don't—"

"I get it, Cammie, it's fine," he interrupts sincerely. "You don't like me that way. Honestly, I would be really—"

"Zach!" I exclaim. "I was going to say: I don't think you mean that. We...well, I _thought_ we hated each other. You've just...oh my gosh, Zach, it is nearly impossible for you to have had a crush on me since kindergarten."

"Nearly," he points out unnecessarily. I throw my hands up and get off the couch quickly, taking a calming breath and fidgeting with my clothes. I shake my head at the thought.

"Zach, why did you do all those things?"

"Like?"

"Like, Sharpie my face, prank me with the glitter dye, ask me on a date!"

"I told you, I like you."

"No, you don't. You hate me. And Sharpie-ing someone's face isn't your typical romantic gesture."

"Cammie, I think I would know who I do and do not like."

"Obviously not!"

"Gallagher Girl, it's okay if you don't like me."

"I didn't say that, did I?"

Zach stops in his tracks and looks up at me from his pacing stance behind the couch. I'd sat back down on the couch through this and am in the process of bearing the world's biggest migraine. "Are you saying you do like me?"

"I didn't say that either."

"Gallagher Girl—"

"Don't call me that!"

"Cammie, if you want to think about it, go ahead."

"That's the problem, Zach, I don't think we should be having this conversation at all."

"Why not?"

"Because!" I shout. "Because we are not supposed to like each other. Everyone knows that."

Zach raises an eyebrow again and sits back down with me, smirking. "I didn't think you were one to act on others' opinions."

"I'm not," I snap tartly, standing up. "I'm acting on what I see."

He scoffs and turns to me. "Cammie, I don't know what you're talking about, but if you want to go home, you can just tell me. You're being too nice already."

I frown a bit. I'm not sure if that's an invitation to leave or an offer to start yelling at him.

"Does that mean I should leave?" I ask suspiciously. He rolls his eyes and stands up next to me.

I get shivers down my spine as he replies, "Only if you want it to be."

He smirks a bit and I roll my eyes like him before and just walk out the door to my car. I hop in and see that Zach doesn't follow. Great. I don't even know how I get home. Auto-pilot.

"Hey, sweetie, how was your date?" Mom asks me once I get in. I notice it's already eleven from the clock on the wall and sigh as I hang my jacket up on the pegs to the side of the doorway. Grant hurtles down the stairs and smiles at me suggestively, to which I hit him on the arm.

"It's complicated," I say, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Grant nods, wiggling his eyebrows. "Uh-huh. It's _complicated_."

"Shut up, Grant. I'll be in my room," I grumble, running my fingers through my hair tiredly. I climb up the stairs and walk down the hallway, shutting the door to my room and slumping against it as I sigh.

"Cammie!" Macey shouts. Were they in here the whole time of my date? "Don't mess up your hair!"

I roll my eyes and run my hands through my hair again. "Macey, it was ruined before."

Liz gasps as Bex raises an eyebrow mysteriously. Did I really tell her that? I don't need questions. Of course, now I have to undergo an entire interrogation about who, what, when, where, and why...something I don't really need at the moment.

"How? More importantly, how dare you ruin the hair I spent _two hours_ on?" Macey demands. I can understand that, I mean it's kind of like having someone run a razor through your masterpiece canvas, but really it's not important right now.

"It's complicated," I repeat, yanking open my drawer and pulling out my MORGAN sweatshirt from my dad's old school. He gave it to me in his living will when he died in a car crash seven years ago. Almost eight.

"Spill," Bex orders, taking me aback at the very Macey-esque demand. I collapse onto my bed, the girls surrounding me, and I sigh...again...as I bluntly explain the situation.

"Zach kissed me," I mumble grumpily, burrowing my head into the pillow on top of the neatly folded sheets. Liz squeals, Bex's jaw drops open, and Macey just looks at me with a smug smile. Did I mention how much I just _love_ my friends?

"WHAT?" Bex screams. I smile a bit, but hide my face so they don't see and interpret it as 'I smile at the memory' and not as 'You guys are so funny'.

"Zach kissed me," I calmly repeat, voice slightly muffled by the sheets, before Macey jerks me up into a sitting position. Liz is blushing furiously for reasons unknown and Bex is about to hit me with a pillow. I raise my hands in defense just in time, but can't help shouting, "What was that for?"

"I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID!" Bex yells, hitting me with the pillow again. Grant opens the door, looks at us, then shakes his head at the situation.

"Can you all stop screaming? Some of us have school tomorrow. And some of us also hate Mondays," he reminds me. I roll my eyes (_again!_) before groaning and flopping onto the sheets again.

"Guys, can I go to sleep?" I plead desperately.

"NO!" everyone, including Grant, replies.

"What is going on?" Grant demands. "You guys seem to be having a very girly argument, which we need to resolve so I can sleep."

"Zach and Cammie kissed," Bex blurts, ever the tattler. I childishly poke my tongue out at her, which she ignores, and Macey steps forward with her arms crossed.

"I told you so," she interjects.

"They kissed?" Grant asks, incredulous. My three 'friends' simultaneously nod and turn back to me. But I'm already slipping under.

* * *

My eyes flutter open groggily and I rub them before looking around the room bathed in pale morning light. The house is silent, and it's too late for everyone to still be asleep, so I assume everyone is already at work/school.

Except my neighbor.

I hear these incessant taps against my window and frown, going over to the glass pane. I lift it up, successfully getting water droplets from the rain outside all over my hands, and stick my head out...to get hit in the head with a rock.

"Ow!" I exclaim. It didn't hurt that much; it's a small rock, but I yelp in shock when it says hello to my forehead. I glance around and see Zach looking very guilty from his little open window. I'm pretty sure he did it, since he's the only person around...

But maybe it's the pile of pebbles in his hand.

"Sorry, Gallagher Girl," Zach apologizes, wincing as I reach up to feel the already sore spot on my temple. I roll my eyes and scoff and I prop my arms on the metal window edge and glare at him.

"What do you want, _Romeo_?" I ask sarcastically. He smirks a bit at my misleading term, but merely looks around the rainy strip of space between us before he opens his mouth.

Zach keeps opening and closing his mouth before he finally says, "Do you want to hang out?"

I snort and look at him skeptically. "Depends, are you going to kiss me?"

"Sorry about that," he says sincerely. "I wasn't thinking."

"You never think," I add.

He grimaces a bit before admitting, "Okay, I deserved that. But do you?"

I tilt my head to the side in thought, getting raindrops all over my face, and agree, "Sure. Where?"

"Give me a minute," he says. I nod and watch him disappear into the invisible depth of his room. Zach returns with a backpack in his hand before he lifts the panel up all the way and jumps.

I only realize what he's going to do last minute and just get out of the way in time. Zach catches his breath while I slap him on the arm. He frowns at me, but seems unaffected by my hit. "What was that for?"

"For nearly killing me with a rock," I retort, hitting him again. "What do you need?"

"Well, would you like to go to the park or not?" Zach asks rhetorically, raising his backpack in the air. I think about it for a minute before frowning and crossing my arms.

"Give me five minutes."

**A/N: OH MY FREAKING GOODNESS. Wait; OH MY FREAKING BADNESS. This chapter is kinda short, and I personally think it's okay...just above sucky. Alert for everyone: I'm in a lull of inspiration, now, so updates can no longer be tracked on a schedule. Sorry. You know how it is, though. Anyways, please REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

"_That_ was five minutes?" Zach exclaims incredulously as he sees me emerge from the bathroom with outdoor clothes, running shoes, brushed teeth, and my (combed) hair up in a ponytail ready to go. I give him a disbelieving look, checking my watch.

"It's been precisely five minutes, thank you, not ten seconds to look in the mirror. I'm sure you spend plenty more than five minutes in the morning," I retort, walking over to my bed. Zach frowns, but stands up and holds his hand out for me.

I give him a second disbelieving look and he puts it back down, letting me lead the way out of my room downstairs. Once we reach the mouth of the kitchen, I turn to him. "Why are we going to the park, Mr. Throw-the-Rocks? It's raining buckets!"

"Sorry about that," Zach quickly apologizes, handing me an umbrella. "And Throw-the-Rocks? Is that the best you've got?"

I tilt my head to the side, thinking a bit more about his nickname before I give him a tight smile and derisively counter, "Mr. Smirks-a-lot. Now can you tell me?"

"We're going to the park because it's something to do on a suspended-from-school day. Reason enough?"Zach asks

I frown at him before shrugging and agreeing, "Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

"How about I elaborate my question from earlier?" I ask, gritting my teeth in the severe cold all over me and the wet in my shoes. "What are we going to do once we get to the park?"

Zach stares down at the gray concrete being pelted with the icy rain before he answers, "How about walk? Isn't that what normal people do when they're at a park?"

"Yes, Zach. Normal people on suspension who are awkward friends decide to visit the park in the pouring rain and walk," I snap. He rolls his eyes and grabs my arm, starting to run down the pathway. I drop my umbrella in surprise and protest, "Hey!"

Zach ignores me and keeps running through the onslaught of water while I try as hard as I can to skid to a stop, to no avail. Suddenly he halts and I run into him from his sudden change.

"Watch where you're going, Gallagher Girl," Zach teases, bringing his umbrella to cover both of us now and pulling me close to him.

The strangest thing? I didn't mind.

"Zach," I breathe, "what are you doing?"

He seems to be having trouble inhaling correctly as well as I flatten my hands out over his chest while he replies, "Just watch, Gallagher Girl. Just watch."

Zach leans closer down to my face as I hesitantly slide my arms up around his neck and kisses me. I immediately respond, not even a moment of second guessing. He seems delighted by this and kisses me with more enthusiasm. And I kind of enjoy it.

But don't tell anyone, it's a secret.

* * *

"So," I say, a bit flustered from his kiss, "do you want to get lunch?"

Zach glances down at his watch and seems surprised that it's nearly a quarter after noon. He grins at me, his hair dripping wet, and replies, "Yeah. I'd like that."

I give him a smile—the first _genuine_ smile I've given him...ever—as he wraps his hand over mine and we walk off through the rain, umbrella at our side.

* * *

(Oh my gosh, so many lines)

We walk into the house tired, wet, and laughing. Zach and I decided to walk home since it was all rainy outside and I felt like being crazy for once. It was a good two hour walk, though, so my legs are about to fall off.

"Ugh, my legs are like wood," I groan to Zach. He grins evilly, and before I can ask, he whisks me up in his arms, bridal style, ignoring my shrieks of protest. He carries me into the kitchen, finally setting me down. I hit him in the arm like this morning and he only laughs.

"Where's the food?" I ask Zach, opening the fridge to put the styrofoam box back in. He hands it to me and I move aside the flour to put it in correctly.

Yeah, the flour falls on me.

I sit there, blinking stupidly in surprise as Zach doubles over in laughter.

"Here, Cammie, I'll help you pick it up," he offers eventually, seeing my Morgan glare. I smile smugly as he helps me. Then he says, "Cammie, I think you missed something."

"What?" I ask, confused as I turn toward him. He tosses a bunch of flour all over my face. I gasp and immediately pick up flour to throw back at him.

"Oh, it's on," Zach tells me, narrowing his eyes playfully. I grin and toss huge handfuls of flour at him in revenge. He's peppering me with little white dots, too, though, and it's an even match until I walk up to him, flour still in my hands, and kiss him.

Immediately, he kisses me back, and I run my hands through his hair before abruptly pulling away. I smile maniacally at his head and he looks puzzled before he reaches up to his hair.

"Oh, so you want to play dirty, do you Morgan?" Zach asks. "Well, we'll play dirty."

He kisses me again, probably about to do something crazy, though I couldn't care less, when the door opens.

A shocked Bex, Grant, Macey, and Preston are standing there.

**A/N: Even though it's short (sorry!), I must rant to you:**

**This chapter took a lot of patience (I couldn't get the words right), laying down in strange positions on my new floor (I was bored), running my hands through my hair, which is all wavy and crap from me being too tired to dry it yesterday, in frustration (because believe me, I was **_**really**_** frustrated), leaning down on my back and taking my glasses off with my knees (at first I was just squeezing my head, but then I saw I could move my glasses...), and Starbucks (I am so glad I decided to go to the grocery store with my step sister). **

**I also got up at the three in the morning here (freaking time zones), and spent my early morning in paranoia because a damn **_**roach **_**fell down from me ceiling at four-thirty and I had to wake up my dad to kill it, so that didn't help. But here I am delivering a chapter to you! Aren't I nice? *asks again, more sternly and glaring* **_**Aren't I nice? **_***readers cower in fear* "Yes, Cameron, you are so amazing!" Much better. I think the next chapter is the last chapter. Unless someone can give me a really good idea *hint hint* to keep me going, it will be.**

**REVIEW!**


	9. Chapter 9

"What the..." Preston starts, the only one who was not aware of our previous kiss. I blush furiously and Zach tucks his hands into his pockets, kind of sheepish. I guess we do look kind of ridiculous. Not only were we kissing, but we're...well, soaking and covered in flour.

I cough, clearing my throat awkwardly before saying, "So...how was school?"

"I knew it!" Macey shrieks suddenly, flailing her arms around **(very Macey-like..not) **in excitement before she grabs Bex and takes me by the arm, practically dragging me up the stairs and into my room. She throws me onto my bed and locks the door to the hall and Grant's bathroom before returning to me.

"SPILL!" she yells. I frown, rubbing my sore arm while Bex looks just as excited.

"Spill what?" I snap. "We weren't doing anything."

Bex snorts at my horrible lie and Macey shakes me by the shoulders. "What do you _mean_ not doing anything?! We saw you eating each others' faces off!"

"I wouldn't put it that way, Macey," I reply, almost scoldingly.

Bex leans over conspiratorially and whispers, "So you do admit you were kissing?"

"Shut it, Baxter," I order, warning her. She shrugs and returns to her formal position while Macey immediately puts her ear to Grant's bathroom door.

"Mace, what are you—?" I get cut off.

"SHH!"

"Fine then," I grumble.

Macey starts to smile, but then suddenly scowls and hits the door, startling me. "It's rude to eavesdrop, boys!"

I stifle laughter at her hypocrisy, but then sober up asa she turns her attention back to me. I cower in fear of her interrogation. Oh, no...

"What exactly did you do today?"

"None of your business."

"Well, I'm making it mine."

"Ugh."

"Did you just 'ugh' me?"

"Macey..."

"Are you dating?"

"Gods no!"

"Then what? Friends with benefits?"

"I think we can all agree that only Bex and Grant can take that."

"HEY!"

"It's true."

"Cameron, I am interrogating you. No distractions. What's going on between you two?"

"I don't know, Macey!"

"You'll tell when you do, though, right?"

"No. You guys are way too nosy for your own good. Now if you don't mind, I must take a shower and change my bed because you got _flour_ all over it," I grouch, heading into my bathroom and turning on the water. I unlock the door between Grant and I's bathroom so that I can go in and out from there because, in honesty, it's convenient.

Everyone can hear me showering, though, so no one in their right mind will come in. I undress and hop in, searing heat spreading across my back and legs in the different kind of rain at first, but then it mellows out into a soothing warmth.

I shampoo my cold, flour encrusted hair before washing it out and sitting down in the tub with conditioner in, thinking. What are Zach and I? I know I like him, now, but...I don't want the entire world to know! It just seems strange, having people _know_ that we kiss and hug and all that.

"Hey, Cammie—" Zach starts, walking in. I cut him off by shrieking and holding my arms over my chest before I remember that the bottom half of my shower curtain is opaque. I kneel so he can see me, but only my head, and narrow my eyes.

"Zach, I'm taking a shower. What do you want?" I demand, a second later chastising myself for not just yelling at him to leave. He smirks and leans against the wall.

"Well, I was _going_ to say that your Mom has dinner ready, but I'd much rather sit here," Zach says, pointing to the toilet lid, "and talk to you."

"Get out, Goode," I order him shortly. He smirks again and waltzes out the door like nothing happened.

What _did_ just happen?

* * *

I hop down the stairs, hair wet and my pajamas on, to greet a full table of Zach, Preston, Macey, Grant, and Bex who is next to my mom. They're having Mexican food, so I grab a paper plate and take what I want—and what's _left_, jeez, Grant—from the several styrofoam containers before sitting down between Zach and my mom. Awkward.

"I shouldn't eat out so much," I tell Zach as I dig in to the flautas I served myself.

He chuckles and whispers in my ear (giving me shivers, shh!), "Please, Gallagher Girl, you've only eaten out twice in the past...what, month? And both of those times were today! It's not going to kill you."

"I beg to differ," I argue. "Fast food is full of nasty fats that can clog your arteries and veins with cholesterol and possibly kill you from blood restriction."

"We didn't eat fast food," Zach informs me, "we ate salad and a sandwich each with a soda. This isn't fast food either. Your mom was waiting twenty minutes to pick it up."

"You know what I mean," I scoff.

Macey's head snaps in our direction. "You guys had lunch?"

"Yes," Zach answers.

"No," I reply immediately.

"What?" Zach asks.

I sigh and elaborate, "I mean, we had lunch. We weren't on a _date_." I glare at Zach and tell him with my eyes. _She's going to murder me and lock me in my room for multiple hours if we had a 'date'. I'm already in deep water, so shut up._

Zach rolls his eyes and replies smartly, "She can't kill you and interrogate you after. She'll kill you once you're interrogated."

"Thanks," I answer flatly, stabbing my guacamole salad.

He shrugs and discreetly wraps his arms around my waist before answering, "No problem."

The whole table is watching our exchange with amused expressions before I glare at them. "What?"

"You guys are so cute!" Macey gushes, putting her hands under her chin. I narrow my eyes, like, you're kidding. Zach just smirks and tightens his grip.

* * *

"So, explain again," Zach says slowly from across the alley strip, perched comfortably with his head out the window.

I sigh from my own window and settle my arms on my frame before answering, "Since you just told me that we're technically dating, I was wondering if we could keep it a secret since I don't want others to know about it. Not because I'm ashamed, I just think that this is a private thing and I feel weird with others knowing we're together."

"So you want to be together but you don't want anyone to know about it," Zach sums up. I nod and he thinks about it for a second before replying, "Okay, I can do that. This should be fun."

"I know, Blackthorne Boy, why do you think I'm in?" I ask smugly. He puts his hand over his heart and looks away from me.

"It hurts, I thought you were in this for me," Zach accuses.

I shrug and say, "Eh, one of the side perks."

He laughs (Have I told you how beautiful his laugh is? It's the best sound in the world...this is another secret, just so you know) and turns back to me with a grin. "Okay, Cammie. I'll see you tomorrow."

"What are we doing?" I ask, curious and elated.

Zach just smirks and raises one eyebrow mysteriously before dramatically concluding, "Oh, you'll see, Gallagher Girl. Just watch."

He shuts the window panel and I smile a bit at his use of words. _Just watch_. That's what he said before he kissed me...I'm turning into a fan girl, ugh.

Oh well.

See you tomorrow, Blackthorne Boy.

**A/N: Eh, ending was weird, but I got another chappie out thanks to Zach-Goode' ****Thank you so much! **

**Please review!**


	10. Interlude

There is a sound. A scraping sound. It's too loud. I frown and roll over, squeezing my eyes shut angrily at whatever ridiculous sound dared to disturb my sleep.

"Cammie..." a soft voice calls. I snarl in annoyance at whoever is crazy enough to wake me up at this early hour. "Cammie..."

"What?" I growl, not opening my eyes. The person chuckles.

"Gallagher Girl" —ah, it's Zach— "we've got to go so we can get to the...special...location on time."

Immediately, I hop up and ask, "How much time?"

"You have an hour to get ready." He winks at me and sits in the chair next to my dresser. "I think I'll wait here."

"Goode, I am not going to have you watch me walk around trying to figure out what I'm going to wear," I inform him, crossing my arms across my chest before flushing red as I realize what I'm wearing. A crop top and tiny shorts that barely cover my butt—comfortable to bed, but not appropriate for your...boyfriend...to see. "Go back to your house and I will tell you when I'm ready."

Zach smirks and holds his arm out to the window while I realize that he's wearing a nice, striped, longsleeved shirt and jeans. I close my eyes and take a deep breath while he mock complains, "But Gallagher Girl, it's so far."

Once I have my self-control back, I glare at him and yank him up by the wrist. "Out. I will see you in an hour."

He frowns, but exits to his window. I shut mine and close the shutters so I can undress. I turn the water on in the shower while I brush my teeth and pick out a nice gray top and skinny jeans from my dresser. I set them up on top of my dresser, open the bottom drawer of my dresser, and pull out my gray converse when my eyes fall on the alarm clock on the little table next to it.

It's 5:15.

My eyes bulge out of their sockets as I realize that I slept for seventeen hours, but then I quickly focus back on my task. Getting ready for—apparently—dinner. Dinner where?

I bring my clothes and undergarments into the bathroom before jumping into the shower as quickly as possible. I get out, dry my hair, and then straighten it so that it falls like a curtain beside my face. Light makeup; mascara and eyeliner with lipgloss; and then put on my clothes carefully.

It's now 5:55.

I swing back the shutters and open my window. "Zach!"

He doesn't open his window. Instead, my closet door swings open. I scream and run to the other side of the room, afraid there's some kind of psycho-stalker in my room when a very handsome teenage boy emerges instead.

I punch Zach's arm as hard as I can and mutter, "You're such an idiot. You know that?"

"I'm not an idiot," he defends, hugging me instead of smirking, like I thought he would. "Ready?"

I scoff at him. "Yeah. Just..._don't do that to me_! You scared me out of my wits!"

"I figured," he counters, holding out his arm for me. Rolling my eyes, I take it, and we walk outside to the front walk. "Close your eyes."

"Why?" I ask, confused. He covers my eyes with his hands—careful not to touch my makeup—without answering and slowly guides me...next door? Oh, no he didn't...

Gently, he opens the door in front of me and lets his hands fall away. We're in his foyer.

"Zach," I begin nervously, "What are we doing here?" Silently, I hoped that he was just getting his wallet that he forgot here or something. Even though I totally intended to pay for whatever was going on.

"You, my dear Cammie," Zach answered, "are going to have dinner with my parents."

Oh. My.

**A/N: Feel free to stab me. **

**I'm the same person as ForeverAGallagherGirl135, as you can probably tell, but just to let you know; I'm now ****The Owlish Olympian****.**

**I lost all my inspiration for this story. Completely. I feel horrible for just leaving you there, but I sat down for an hour and wrote this measly little thing I'm just going to call an interlude, instead of a chapter because it's so short.**

**I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry. **


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